


A Goodbye and a Hello

by holdyourbreathfornow



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brainwashing, Fake AH Crew, Implied Murder, Minor Character Death, Other, cursing, gunfights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 10:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18030089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdyourbreathfornow/pseuds/holdyourbreathfornow
Summary: When a mysterious agency comes hunting for two of the Fake AH Crew, they get their hands on Ryan and Jeremy, taking them somewhere the rest of the crew can’t find them.Months later, the crew hires a pair of mercenaries:  The Vagabond and Rimmy Tim.  And there’s something almost... Familiar about them.





	1. Prologue

Geoff is of the opinion that the whole mess started with the government man who said he wasn’t a government man, but still dressed like one.

 

-

 

“Geoff, there’s a man out here who wants to meet with you.”  Kdin pokes her head in and Geoff looks up from where he’s examining a large map of Los Santos, marking spots for potential heists in red pen.  He folds the map and slips the pen into a mug full of similar ones before nodding to Kdin. 

 

She vanishes from the doorframe and a moment later is leading in a man with a suitcase tucked against his side.  Once Kdin is gone, Geoff motions for the man to sit, which he does.

 

“So how can I help, Mister…?”  

 

“Smith.  A fake name, but you understand, surely, what with your particular line of work.”

 

“It’s alright.  But if you wouldn’t mind explaining your business?”

 

“I work for an Agency that employs mercenaries, and we have been on a recruiting campaign.  Currently, the eyes of my employers have landed on your crew. We need two employees, no more, no less.”

 

“What, you wanna hire them?”

 

“Not quite.”  Smith’s eyes flicker with a look Geoff is uncomfortably familiar with, one he’s seen in the mirror enough times before a firefight, and Geoff pulls his pistol from his coat, diving under his desk just as Smith pulls out his own gun, a single bullet shredding the headrest, approximately where Geoff’s own face had been not thirty seconds ago.

 

“Kdin, code red!”  Geoff bellows as he rolls from under his desk, aiming a shot at Smith’s kneecap.  He hears the fire exit slam shut outside just as he fires. His shot clips Smith’s calf, instead of his kneecap like Geoff had originally wanted, but it buys Geoff enough time to flee his office and press speed-dial on his phone as he wedges a chair under the door handle and runs out onto the street.  In multiple points throughout Los Santos, the rest of the Main Six accept the call.

 

“This is Ramsey.  Code red, targeting entire crew, recruiting for unknown agency.”

 

“Rendezvous point?”  Michael asks, shouting to be heard over the background noise, which sounds like a pub fight.

 

“Achievement Plaza.  Make sure you’re not followed.  Update the B Team and Support, then get out.”  

 

Everyone else affirms Geoff’s commands, then the line goes dead.  Geoff turns back to look at the building his office was in. He knows nothing important is in there, but something still tugs at his heartstrings when he presses a button on his phone.  The building goes up in a ‘whumph’ of flames, the shockwave of heat ruffling Geoff’s already messy hair. He nods to himself, then runs for his car.

 

-

 

“What the hell happened?”  Jeremy asks as soon as Geoff pulls into the plaza and exits his car.  

 

Achievement Plaza isn’t actually a plaza that the ordinary man can get to.  It’s built underground an abandoned warehouse. A camera scans pre-approved license plates and opens a segment in the floor that the driver can drive down into.  It’s the safest place for the Fake AH Crew in the entire city of Los Santos. 

 

“This jackass comes in for a meeting,” Geoff begins, snagging a Diet Coke from the cooler they have positioned along one wall and chugging half of it in one go.  “He comes in, right, and mentions he works for an agency that’s recruiting, and they want two people from our crew. I tell him to piss off, he pulls a gun on me, and now we’re here.  Maybe he’s lying and he just wanted revenge, but I don’t know.”

 

“Who did we piss off?”  Michael asks, turning in a slow circle to look at every member of the crew.  Jeremy and Ryan, standing together, are the first to answer. Jeremy shrugs straightaway, but Ryan gives it a moment, genuinely considers the question.

 

“I… Can’t think of anyone with the kind of reach to get a meeting with Geoff just for vengeance against me.”

 

“Then it isn’t vengeance.”  Gavin pipes up, scrolling through something on his phone.  “But whoever it is, they’re powerful. All cops have been recalled to their individual stations.  So we can’t turn them against the Agency.” There’s a moment’s pause as Gavin keeps typing before his fingers go still and he swallows loudly enough for his throat to click and echo through the plaza.  “Bad news, lads, they’ve found us.” He turns the phone for everyone else to see.

 

On the screen, Geoff watches as a black SUV drives into the warehouse where the entrance to the plaza is hidden.  It circles the empty warehouse once, twice, before stopping in the dead center of the room. The doors all pop open, and men in SWAT gear pour out, taking up positions around the room.  Geoff sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, staving off the beginnings of a stress headache.

 

“Load up on weapons.  We’re going to stick close together.  They aren’t getting any of us.”

 

“Roger dodger!”  Gavin chirps and Michael rolls his eyes.

 

“Okay, so Teams Nice Dynamite, Team OG, and Battle Buddies?”  Jack suggests and Geoff nods in approval.

 

“Alright, none of you get yourselves killed.”

 

“Aw, you say the sweetest things.”  Ryan flutters his eyelashes and Jeremy snorts with laughter next to him.

 

“If these Agency fucks don’t shoot you, I will, Haywood.”  Geoff warns and Ryan rolls his eyes. They split up and pile into three different cars.  As Jack revs the engine, Geoff clicks a clip into his pistol and slips a remote, with a single button, from the pocket of his suit jacket.  Jack nods to him and pulls a radio speaker from the visor.

 

“Boss has got the button ready.  We need an affirmative.”

 

“Let’s play.”  Jeremy’s voice crackles over the radio, and from behind Jack’s car, the gigantic engine of his monster truck roars to life.  

 

The radio spits again as Michael presses the button, but the only noise is him bickering with Gavin, who’s squawking in the background.  Jack rolls his eyes and switches his radio off, jamming it back into its proper place above his visor. He nods to Geoff, who presses the button on the remote in his hand.  Jack guns the engine as the door out of the plaza lowers. The other cars roar in response, and they move out as a unit.

 

There’s a moment where the crew is moving past the SUVs that Geoff looks through his window and into the eyes of one of the drivers.  In what feels like slow motion, he flips the driver the bird and laughs as the crew bursts from the warehouse and onto the streets of Los Santos.

 

“Do we have any idea where we should go?”  Jack shouts over the sound of screeching tires as he weaves through traffic, sending civilians screaming before him, like he always does when he’s driving.  

 

“Nope!”  Geoff laughs and the radio crackles.

 

“We got company on our six.”  Ryan mutters into the radio and Jack curses as he looks in his rear-view mirror.  Next to him, Geoff rolls his window down and leans out, only held in by his seatbelt wound around one calf.  He fires wildly, the other two crew cars swerving around the bullets. The windshields on one of the black SUVs shatters and Geoff sees the person riding shotgun sag forward before Jack is screeching around a corner and Geoff has to desperately cling to the door with both hands if he doesn’t want to get thrown out onto the road below.

 

He reaches up and hauls himself back into the car as Jack’s car slams back down onto all four wheels.  Jack laughs with adrenaline, but he quickly stops when Gavin starts yelling into the radio.

 

“Can you make out what he’s saying?”  Geoff asks as he snaps another clip into his gun, and Jack shakes his head.  Sighing, Geoff snatches the radio down and spits into it.

 

“Gavin, calm down!  No one can understand what you’re saying!”  There’s a moment’s silence, and then Michael’s voice comes screaming through.

 

“He’s saying they have fucking rocket launchers, JESU-”  And then there’s an explosion under the car, and the world turns into nothing but heat and fire.

  
  
  


-

 

The street’s a mess, chaos and blood and still-flaming gasoline raining down around the crew.  Geoff has an arm looped around Jack’s shoulders as he heaves his way through a coughing fit, and Michael’s down for the count, sagged against an intact car where Gavin had propped him before collapsing next to him.  Ryan’s ears are ringing, but he still scans the street for Jeremy frantically. 

 

“We… We have to go.”  Geoff wheezes and Ryan doesn’t even spare him a glance when he shakes his head in defiance.  “Ryan, we can’t… We can’t take them.”

 

“I don’t care about whether or not we’ll win.”  Ryan spits, struggling not to dissolve into a coughing fit himself.  “I’m not leaving anyone behind, especially not Jeremy.” Silence falls over the street, other than the flickering of flames and popping of car tires, and Ryan hears Jeremy, weakly calling for help.  He withdraws a pistol from the waistband of his jeans and checks the magazine, cocking the gun as he turns back to the crew. “Get out of here, Jeremy and I’ll be right behind you.”

 

“What if you’re not?”  Jack asks, sounding afraid.  And that, more than anything, that combined with Jeremy’s weakening voice, makes him angry.  His family shouldn’t suffer like this. Michael should be on his feet, a blaze of anger and energy.  Gavin should be right there with Michael, asking moronic questions and squawking like a bird when Michael swipes at him, instead of unconscious and possibly dead next to his best friend.  

 

“Then we’ll deal with it as we go.  Jack, you gotta trust me. You have to get Michael and Gavin out of here, and you know I can’t leave Jeremy behind.”

 

“Yeah.”  Jack sighs and curses as Geoff sags a little further, fading from consciousness fast.  “Yeah, you’re right. Get going.” Ryan nods and wheels, beginning to run down the street towards Jeremy’s voice when he hears Jack call him again.  “And please stay safe!”

 

“We’ll do our best!”  Ryan calls and leaves.

 

He finds Jeremy pinned under a car’s tire, and Ryan doesn’t even pause to riddle out how that could’ve happened before he’s pushing at the wheel, trying to move it off of Jeremy.  

 

“I’m fine, I swear.”  Jeremy coughs from where the wheel’s pressing down on his upper leg, and Ryan doesn’t have enough breath in his lungs to give a coherent answer, so he just growls and continues pressing against the car.  It shifts minutely and the wheel rolls further down Jeremy’s leg, making the shorter man spit curses and knock his head against the pavement so he can focus on the pain in his head instead of the massive crushing weight in his leg that has almost definitely broken bones.  

 

Over the sound of Ryan’s blood roaring in his ears, he hears a car driving through the carnage of the three destroyed crew cars.

 

“I knew you’d come back for your little friend.”  A voice says behind him as a gun cocks, and he feels the cold metal of the muzzle pressing into the small of his back.  “It’s why I had my men place him under the car while he was still unconscious.”

 

“Just let me get him out, and then you can shoot me.”  Ryan pleads monotonously. The man giggles and presses just the tiniest bit harder.  

 

“Oh, you just don’t understand!  No, no, the boss wants a pair for his new group.  And while we wanted the angry one and the British one, it seems you and the shortstack are just as devoted to each other.”

 

“Ryan, you need to leave me.  You can get away, get help.”

 

“Don’t be stupid.”  Ryan scolds quietly.  “We stick together.”

 

“Aw, how sweet.”  The man coos and then gags.  “Yuck, I think the sweetness of this whole situation made me throw up in my mouth.”

 

“You’re demented.”  Jeremy growls and the gun presses even harder.  Ryan wouldn’t be surprised if there was an indent starting to form in the soft flesh of his back.  

 

“Maybe, baby!”  The man’s voice is dripping with his laughter now, and it puddles around them, leaking into Ryan and Jeremy’s ears and twining about their nerves, choking them with barbed wire disguised like rose bushes.  “But a crazy man always gets what he wants.” Suddenly the gun at Ryan’s back is gone and he starts to turn when he’s pistol-whipped, just behind his ear. Hot blood bursts from his ear, the same wet heat you get when you crush a cherry tomato between your teeth.  He falls to his knees and his vision tunnels on one patch of asphalt next to his right knee. There’s nothing special about it, but the flecks of glass embedded in it glint and blind him as he collapses onto his face and passes out. 


	2. The Right Team for the Job

“I found a couple mercenaries you could hire for this heist.”  Trevor sets a stack of manila folders on Geoff’s desk with a loud thunk, and Geoff startles, blearily looking up at Trevor.  “They’re good guys, good records, bit destructive.”

 

“Then why don’t you bring them on?”  Geoff asks, stifling a yawn, and Trevor rolls his shoulders, just as tired as Geoff, even though he’s struggling not to show it.  

 

“They don’t have a shit-ton of autonomy, Geoff.  They’re controlled by a handler, who’s agreed to loan them to us under the condition he meets with the head of the crew for negotiations, not ‘some lowly coffee runner’.”  Trevor makes air quotes with his fingers, and Geoff doesn’t have to struggle at all to hear the bitterness oozing from his voice.

 

“Jesus, are they fucking slaves or something?”  When all Trevor can do is shrug, Geoff curses quietly.  “Fine, set up the damn meeting.”

 

“Will do, boss.  Michael’s also on his way up, I told him to wait until I left, so I didn’t have to listen to the two of you shouting at each other.”

 

“I wish I didn’t have to, either.”  Geoff dismisses Trevor with a wave, and the man leaves.  There are exactly seven seconds of silence before Michael comes bursting into the room.  

 

“Sup, Geoff?”  He asks, cordially enough, and Geoff suppresses the urge to sigh, a weary, bone-deep sigh that would maybe lift the weight off from his shoulders the tiniest bit.  

 

“Can we not do this today, Michael?”  Geoff asks and Michael’s face scrunches up with discontent.

 

“All I’m doing is asking you if you’ve found them yet.”

 

“You ask me,” Geoff begins, getting to his feet and swinging his bottle of Diet Coke back and forth like a pendulum, “The same fucking question every day.  And every day I give you the same. FUCKING ANSWER!” Geoff whirls and hurls his empty plastic bottle at the wall. The sound of the impact is not nearly satisfying enough and the bottle comes rolling back to rest against Michael’s feet.  He looks up at Geoff and gently sets the bottle back on his desk. Geoff stares at it for a moment before he sags. He sits heavily on the ground, leaning against the desk and burying his head in his hands. “And it’s still not good enough.  I still can’t find them.”

 

“At least you’re trying.”  Michael says slowly, carefully.  He sits, but not next to Geoff. He slides down the wall and pulls one leg up, resting his arm atop it.  “But we’re obviously not going to find them if we’re all going crazy sitting here, acting like fucking morons with our thumbs up our asses.”  Geoff looks up at that, looks at Michael.

 

“What are you saying?”  There’s a pause and then Michael grins, a nasty little smile that seems to be all canines, almost gleaming in the low light of Geoff’s office.  

 

“Let’s make this next heist a big one.  I want in, and I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone else does as well.”  

 

-

 

Geoff stares at the two giant metal canisters that are oozing cold fog into his living room.  Mr. Johnson stands in between them, leaning on one casually and buffing his nails on his shirt.

 

“What do you mean you’ve got people in there?”  Geoff asks and Johnson smiles innocently. 

 

“Just what I’ve said, Mr. Ramsey.  The two mercenaries in these cryo-pods have the highest rates of completion.”

 

“Okay, I think I’ve wrapped my head around the fact that you’ve got people in those cryo-pods.  That doesn’t exactly answer my question of  why you’ve got people in those cryo-pods.”

 

“It’s simply good business, Mr. Ramsey.  Also, I think I should remind you that, as someone who doesn’t work for you, I don’t owe you a single fucking thing.”

 

Geoff holds his hands up placatingly, and gestures at the cryo-pods.  “So how am I supposed to determine whether or not these two will be a good fit for this job?”  

 

“Well, that’s easy enough.”  Johnson bustles past Geoff, to the feet of the pods.  There’s a tiny panel with even smaller buttons in the exact middle of the circle and Johnson turns back to Geoff, beckoning him closer.  “Now, I trust you, so I’m going to teach you the code.”

 

“Okay?”  Geoff watches as Johnson punches in a series of numbers, five digits long, and then waits.  There’s a few seconds of silence before the entire panel lights up green and white fog starts leaking from the pod.  Geoff trails after Johnson as he moves onto the next pod and puts in a different series of numbers. 

 

“And now we wait.”  The fog continues leaking out, and Geoff just starts thinking that someone’s playing a joke on him when there’s two sets of loud screeching.  He yells and claps his hands over his ears. Johnson doesn’t, and instead keeps his hands folded properly behind his back.

 

“What’s going on?”  Geoff yells and Johnson turns his head to smile at him.

 

“They’re waking up!”  The smile he gives Geoff looks dead, his eyes empty, skin almost yellow, even in the high quality light of the penthouse.  Suddenly, the screeching stops and Geoff slowly removes his hands from his ears. The pods both stand open and he and Johnson stare at them.  

 

A hand, gloved in black fingerless leather, shoots out of the smaller pod and grabs the side of it, heaving himself out.  Water drips off of him and onto the floor. The mercenary is dressed in a gaudy configuration of neon orange and purple, a white cowboy hat gripped loosely in one hand.  He has a lower face mask striped with more orange and purple, and large black sunglasses. The only thing really visible on him is his nose.

 

His head turns slowly back and forth, cataloguing the entire room.  When he notices the other cryo pod, he walks over and plunges a hand into it.  The merc shakes whatever he’s gripping, and his partner rises from the smoke as quickly as a bullet fired from a gun.

 

The second merc is in a black jacket with blue stripes on the shoulders.  His mask covers his entire face, a gray skull with white teeth and red stripes that run up the cheeks and end at the eyes, hidden behind gray mesh.

 

Orange and purple merc helps skull merc from his cryo pod and they stand shoulder to shoulder, silently facing Geoff and Johnson.

 

“Mr. Ramsey, meet Rimmy Tim and the Vagabond, our two best and most violent mercs.  Their contract with your crew will end after one month, so I suggest that that heist you’re planning moves rather quickly.”

 

“I’m not even going to ask how you know about that.”  Geoff holds a hand out to Rimmy Tim, who hesitates and glances to Johnson.  In his peripherary vision, Geoff sees Johnson nod. Rimmy Tim relaxes slightly and reaches out, shaking Geoff’s hand.

 

“These two are proficient in all weaponry and obedient to boot.  They will not speak unless spoken to, and will take your orders very literally.  That’s why they usually aren’t hired a second time. Their employers have made the mistake of making a sarcastic comment and… Well, let’s just say several of those employers have died under rather gory circumstances.”

 

“As long as they don’t try to kill us, I think this will work out.”  The two mercenaries stand still as Geoff and Johnson move away, talking together.

 

-

 

“They creep me out.”  Gavin whispers to Michael, who turns to look at whatever Gavin’s looking at.  He sees the two new hires, standing side by side in a corner of the room, and he knows what Gavin’s feeling.  An electric thrill runs up the length of his spine and he scowls to hide his nerves. 

 

“Don’t mess with them, Gav.  Stick with me.” Gavin nods and Michael hooks their elbows together.

 

“I want Jeremy and Ryan back.”  Gavin mutters, and he does it so quietly that Michael knows he’s talking to himself more than anything.  Nonetheless, Michael squeezes him tighter.

 

“I know, boi.”  Jack emerges from Geoff’s office and, her head held deliberately, desperately high, walks towards the meeting room.  Michael tugs Gavin along as he hurries after her, and the Brit stumbles along too. 

 

“Who are they?”  He asks her once the three of them are alone in the meeting room and Jack sighs, letting her facade fall.  She hunches in on herself and runs her hands through her hair.

 

“Geoff hired mercenaries to work this job with us.”  She yells and smacks the wall next to her. “Dammit! How could he be so stupid?”

 

“You’re his partner.”  Gavin jokes and Jack laughs bitterly.

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”  She shakes her head again just as Geoff pokes his head into the meeting room.

 

“Gavin, Michael, get out here.  I’ve got a couple people I want you to meet.”

 

“If it’s your creepy robot people, I don’t wanna.”  Gavin hides more behind Michael, who crosses his arms over his chest and glowers.  

 

“They’re not robots.”  Geoff sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose.

 

“They might as well be, the way they act.”  Jack comes to stand beside Michael. “I’m sorry, Geoff, but I agree with the Lads on this one.”

 

“You don’t have a choice!”  Geoff yells and shocks the other three into silence.  He groans and buries his face in his hands. “I know, I know they’re a pair of creepy fucks, okay?  I know they seem like they could snap and kill us at any second, but we don’t have a choice.” He sags a little more and Jack peels away from Michael and Gavin to stand next to Geoff, placing one steadying hand on the small of Geoff’s back.  He leans into the touch slightly. “I already paid Johnson for them, we’re stuck with them for a month at least.”

 

“Sorry, Geoff.”  Gavin mutters and Geoff pulls one hand away from his face to wave it dismissively.

 

“No, I don’t blame you.  Let’s just-” He sighs again and straightens up fully, grabbing Jack’s hand with his own and weaving their fingers together.  “Let’s just make the best of what we’ve got, huh?”

 

“Will do, boss.”  Michael salutes sarcastically and Gavin giggles.

 

“Sure.  And maybe they won’t be so bad.”

 

-

 

“Do you two have anything to contribute?”  Trevor asks, looking up from the blueprints of the bank to arch an eyebrow at Rimmy Tim and the Vagabond.  They remain silent, standing by the doors. 

 

Rimmy Tim’s arms are crossed over his chest while Vagabond’s hang loosely at his sides.  They both stare straight ahead, as much as Trevor can tell from their hidden eyes, and don’t react to his barbed question.  He turns to Geoff and waves an arm in their general direction.

 

“I think we’ve got the plan down.”  Geoff diverts the topic, ignoring Trevor’s silent question.  He stands from his seat and cracks all his knuckles, shaking them out afterwards and eaching for his gun where it rests on the table.  “We move out early in the morning, when everyone’s still trying to wake up, so I suggest we head to sleep early. We good?”

 

“Let’s do this thing.”  Michael and Gavin stand together and leave the meeting room, Michael calling Lindsay as Gavin shoots a text off to Meg.  Geoff looks to the two mercs.

 

“We have a spare room we can put you in.  We’ll come get you when it’s time in the morning?”  The two mercs nod and Geoff turns to Jack. “Uh, can I ask a teensy, tiny favor?”  Jack sighs and gets to her feet, the mercs trailing after her as she leaves. 

 

Then it’s just Geoff and Tevor.

 

“Fucking robotic pieces of shit.”  Trevor mutters tiredly, yawning as he rolls his blueprints back up and stuffs them in his messenger bag.  “Seriously, Geoff, we could’ve hired a couple goons from Los Verdes. At least they’d actually say something when I asked a question.”

 

“Yeah, but you saw those two mercs’ resumes.”  Geoff shakes Trevor by his shoulder lightly, and retreats when the younger man bats him away.  “They’re the best, Trevor.”

 

“They damn well better be.”  Trevor sighs again and heads for the door.  Right as he gets there, he pauses, readjusts his bag.  Then he looks at Geoff appraisingly. “Here’s hoping this goes well, Geoff.”

 

“Thanks, Trevor.”  And then Geoff’s left alone with his thoughts as Trevor leaves.

 

-

 

Surprisingly enough, the heist goes off without a hitch.  The mercs may not speak, but they follow instructions to a T.  In fact, much better than Gavin and Michael, and Geoff makes it a point to remind the two Lads of that fact several times.  

 

“I will slit your throat.”  Michael growls as he climbs into Jack’s getaway car.  He rips his mask off and presses the duffel bag onto the seat next to him.  

 

“I would prefer you didn’t.”  Geoff turns to the Vagabond, who’s driving the second getaway car.  “Back to the penthouse. Do you need directions?” Mutely, the Vagabond shakes his head.  “Do you ever say anything?” There’s a moment of hesitation and then the Vagabond nods, slowly.  “Well, say something.”

 

“Something.”  The Vagabond’s voice is heavily filtered, and deep.  Other than the pitch, Geoff can’t tell anything about what his natural voice would sound like, but he chooses to roll his eyes at the Vagabond’s joke.

 

“Ha ha, very funny.”

 

“I thought so.”  The Vagabond shrugs and then guns the engine, peeling away from the bank.

 

Back at the penthouse, Jack sends their money off to be laundered, and then the crew, plus the two mercenaries, sit awkwardly around the table.

 

“Well, that went better than expected.”  Geoff says finally and Jack nods in agreement.  “So now what?”

 

“Well, their boss is going to be here soon.”  Michael points at Vagabond and Rimmy Tim. While Vagabond sits up a little straighter, Tim seems to sag in on himself.  

 

“Do we have to ship them off?”  Gavin asks and everyone’s eyes snap to him.  He fiddles with his sunglasses, still hiding his eyes, and rolls his shoulders.  “I mean, they know what they’re doing! They were really helpful with the whole heist.  And they’re fun, you know? So it doesn’t seem fair to just boot them.”

 

“It’s not fair.”  Jack sighs and runs her hands through her hair.  “Something seems off with this whole situation, Geoff.”

 

“Well, what can we do?  Johnson is supposed to be here today to get these two.  And speaking of!” He whirls on the mercenaries. “What do you two think about this whole thing?”

 

“We’re not supposed to have opinions.”  Vagabond drawls, and Geoff knows that though he’s not supposed to, the more intimidating of the two definitely has opinions, regardless of what anyone else says.

 

“Okay, so what do you think?”  Geoff asks again and Vagabond sighs.

 

“We’re stuck working for Johnson.  He’s got too much power, too many people in his pocket for us to get out.  And even if we did get out, we don’t have any memories of our past lives.”

 

“In short, we’re screwed.”  Rimmy Tim pipes up, and Vagabond nods in agreement.  Just as Geoff gets his thinking face on, the doorbell to the penthouse buzzes and everyone’s shoulders tense up around their ears.

 

“I guess it’s time.”  Geoff says quietly and Rimmy Tim and Vagabond follow him to the foyer, where he opens the door.  Johnson and two of his masked lackeys stand outside the door, a cryo pod being pushed by each lackey.

 

“Hello, Ramsey.  Boys. Has it been a fun month?”  Before any of them can answer, Johnson holds a hand up to silence them.  He pushes past the three and into the main living room. His two lackeys follow and the pods hiss open.  Vagabond has his hand resting on Rimmy Tim’s shoulder, his grip so tight the fabric crumples around it. “Okay, boys.  Time to get in.”

 

“It’s okay.”  Geoff whispers to them as they start walking slowly forwards.  “It’ll be fine, alright?”

 

“Welcome home.”  Johnson smiles and pushes the two mercenaries into their individual pods.  Geoff tries to meet both of their gazes as the pods hiss closed. They stare straight back at him until the metal closes with a dull thud.


	3. The Faces of the Lost

“We want to hire the Battle Buddies again.”  Geoff’s sat in Johnson’s office, staring the head of the Agency down.  His suitcase, full of traceable cash and a tiny microphone currently being used by the rest of the Crew, back at the penthouse, presses against his leg reassuringly.

 

“They’re not usually requested again by repeat customers.  Too destructive.” Johnson laces his fingers under his chin and smirks.  “But that’s exactly why you wish to hire them again, isn’t it? Your Crew is nothing if not annihilative.”

 

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

 

“As well you should.”  Johnson leans down, opening a drawer in his desk and withdrawing two manila folders.  “So any particular reason you want to hire these two again?”

 

“You treat them like shit.”  Geoff says bluntly and Johnson’s eyebrows rocket into his hairline.  “They’re human fucking beings and you keep them in cryo tubes when they aren’t being useful at that exact second.”

 

“You’re a businessman.”  

 

“I’m a man.”  Geoff bites back and bares his teeth when Johnson merely keeps laughing.  “Unlike you.”

 

“No need to be so rude.”  Johnson blinks, pouting exaggeratedly, before he’s all grins and easy chuckles again.  “I am human, Geoff. Do you want to know why? Go on, ask.”

 

“Why?”  Geoff asks and Johnson shoots to his feet, lurches across the desk.  He wraps his fingers in the lapel of Geoff’s white button-down shirt, tugs him forward until their noses are an inch from brushing.

 

“Because humans and only humans are capable of being evil, spiteful little fucks.”  He releases Geoff, probably expecting him to go staggering back, but Geoff just stands up straight and smooths out the collar of his shirt, arching an eyebrow at Johnson, thoroughly unimpressed.

 

“Then obviously you’ve never met a raccoon.  Had a few of those bastards camping in the dumpster behind my first apartment.  Listened to them trying to kill the stray dogs all night, every night, for no other reason than that the dogs looked at them funny.”  

 

“Are you calling me a raccoon?”  Johnson asks with a chuckle and Geoff shakes his head.

 

“Nah.  I’m calling you a sadistic little shithead who’s got something I want.  And as the king of the crime world, I’m going to teach you a little rule.”  He whips a knife out from a special sheath around his waist and throws it with pinpoint accuracy.  It sinks into Johnson’s thigh and the man screams, his hands flying around to grab his leg as he collapses to the ground.  “Rule #1: What the king and his council want, the king and his council get.” Grinning, Geoff walks over and crouches down next to Johnson, who’s pulled the knife out and thrown it aside.  “And we want the mercs. Permanently. No charge.”

 

“You can’t have them.  I own them. I own their fucking souls, Ramsey.”

 

“I think you need to worry about your own soul.”  With a single finger, Geoff digs into the knife wound in Johnson’s leg, cherishing the man’s screams like they’re song lyrics.  

 

He reaches up with his other hand and lifts Johnson up by the collar of his shirt.

 

“‘Cause it’s about to leave your body.  In a very violent way.”

 

-

 

Geoff hightails it to the room where the cryo pods are, and he almost comes up short when he enters the room.  

 

Most of the pods are empty, lining the wall, except for two, which glow a very pale green.  Vagabond and Rimmy Tim are fully dressed, tubes running under their masks and clothes. They’re suspended in midair, strapped to metal slabs and restrained by straps on each limb.

 

“Okay, how do I get these open?”  Geoff inspects Rimmy Tim’s tube, but doesn’t even see a button to try and press.  “Dammit.” He keeps looking for a minute before he remembers he has his gun held loosely in one hand.  “Oh, ignore me being a fucking idiot.” He lifts his gun, aims carefully, and shoots the pod. Gas hisses out and Geoff covers his mouth with his sleeve, knocking at the rest of the glass with the butt of his gun.  

 

When Rimmy Tim blinks awake, Geoff moves from his cryo pod to the Vagabond’s.  He repeats the process and the two mercs crawl out without embedding any glass in their skin, which is honestly sort of impressive.

 

“What’s going on?”  Vagabond asks just as the sound of a gunfight drifts down from upstairs.

 

“We need to leave.”  Geoff pulls two more guns from under his suit jacket and thrusts one into each merc’s hands.  “You two ready to be free?”

 

“Hell yeah.”  Rimmy Tim eagerly snatches the gun and cocks it.  Vagabond copies much more calmly and the two trail after Geoff as he heads for the door out of the cryo pod room.  

 

-

 

Geoff, Tim, and Vagabond fight their way out of the building.  Most of the people seem more preoccupied with something happening outside, so the three manage to break out without too much trouble.

 

As they step outside, the sound of sirens and gunfire rise in volume.  Geoff glances down the street where he sees 00M0GAR engaged in an impromptu street race with several police cruisers.  At the side walk, a sleek, baby blue sports car screeches to a halt, Jack at the wheel.

 

“Get in.”  Jack rolls her window down and the three men waste no time before clambering inside.  Geoff gets into the passenger seat, while Tim and Vagabond sit in the back.

 

“Hi, Jack.”  Geoff grins as he buckles his seatbelt and checks his gun.

 

“Hi, Geoff.  Any troubles?”

 

“Well, Johnson’s dead, and I got Rimmy Tim and Vagabond out, so no, I’d say we’re doing pretty good.”

 

“Good, cause it’s about to get rough.”  Jack releases the wheel and picks an SMG up from her floorboard.  Geoff leans over and snags the wheel with both hands, keeping the car steady as Jack unleashes a hail of bullets on a car behind them.  Though he doesn’t look away from the road, Geoff does his best to turn towards the back seat.

 

“How are you two doing?”

 

“Peachy.”  Rimmy Tim bounces in his seat slightly and Vagabond nods in agreement.  “Wouldn’t mind getting my hands on a better gun.” At that moment, Jack takes the wheel back from Geoff and tosses her SMG to Rimmy Tim.

 

“Go nuts.”  She tells him.  And Geoff can almost imagine the wide grin hidden under Tim’s mask.  

 

Before he can lean out the window, however, Vagabond speaks up.

 

“They’ve got an RPG.”

 

“Bail out!”  Geoff yells and Jack puts the car in reverse to stop it as much as possible before she jumps out.  Everyone else quickly follows and they all book it and get separated as the car explodes into almost glorious flames behind them.  

 

-

 

Gunfire roars around them as Geoff ducks behind an overturned SUV, cussing up a storm as he clicks a mag from his pistol and jams another one in.  Next to him, Rimmy Tim reloads his own SMG, and Geoff turns to look at him.

 

“So why are you and Vagabond rebelling against the Agency, siding with us?”  Rimmy Tim shrugs, standing and shooting before diving down again.

 

“It feels like the right thing to do.”  Rimmy Tim’s voice modifier crackles, obviously broken, and Geoff sees his eyebrows furrow down behind his thick sunglasses.  He reaches up and tugs the bandanna off, and Geoff just about chokes on his own tongue.

 

With the bandanna removed, Geoff can actually make out the majority of Rimmy Tim’s face.  And he damn well recognizes it, considering there’s a picture of it on the wall, with a missing poster pinned underneath it.

 

Rimmy Tim is Jeremy Dooley, one of the missing members of Geoff’s crew- no, fuck that, his family.  

 

“Jeremy?”  Geoff chokes, and Rimmy Tim raises an eyebrow.

 

“Dude, I think you’re hallucinating from the blood loss.  The name’s Rimmy Tim. We’ve kinda known each other for a while.”

 

“I’ve known you a hell of a lot longer than ‘a while’.”  Geoff spits and Jeremy’s eyebrows lift.

 

“I never met you before you hired Vagabond and I for that first job.”  Jeremy says and Geoff shakes his head.

 

“I’ll prove it.  Your name’s Jeremy Dooley.”  Jeremy freezes like he’s been shocked and Geoff scoots a little closer, the sound of gunfire fading away easily, softly.  “You were born in Boston. You have a little brother who you paid through college. Your mom called you at least once a week, probably more.  She still calls, you know, hoping to hear your voice.”

 

“Stop that.”  Jeremy mutters, but Geoff just keeps going.

 

“Ryan Haywood is your best friend.  You two went to New Orleans together, and he kept you from getting mugged every time you got blackout drunk.”

 

“I said stop!”  Jeremy yells.

 

“Gavin Free is your friend.  He bought you your monster truck, and you took him to a demolition derby.  Hell, you even bought him noise muffling headphones because you knew the loud noise would overwhelm him.  He’s still got the selfie of the two of you with the derby winner as his lock screen.”

 

“He does?  Wait-” Jeremy grabs his head.

 

“Michael Jones is your friend.  You were one of his groomsmen when he married Lindsay.  You bought him a flamethrower for his birthday last year.  He taught you how to pick handcuffs while you were wearing them.”

 

“I still know how.”  Jeremy grinds out between his teeth, head almost touching his knees.  

 

“Jack Pattillo is your friend.  She made everyone breakfast and watched cartoons while she ate.  You commissioned the artist of her favorite show to draw her in the show’s style, and she picked you up.  She just carried you around for hours like you didn’t even weigh anything.” Jeremy cries out and the only reason he doesn’t fall to the ground is the fact that Geoff grabs him under his arms and tugs them both away from the fight.  “C’mon, Jeremy, you have to remember.”

 

“Hurts…”  Jeremy groans and Geoff sighs.  He spots a warehouse, abandoned in the gunfight, and falls inside with Jeremy tucked close to him.  

 

“I know it hurts, but you’re stronger than some stupid brainwashing.  What happened to the guy who used to wrestle cats on Mt. Chiliad? Whose dumb ass takes a bullet for his friends, even when they’re both wearing body armor?  Where’s the man who’s a part of my fucking family?”

 

“Right here.”  Jeremy grins and shoves Geoff to the ground just as a hail of gunfire erupts behind him.  Most of the bullets miss, but one gets lucky and catches Jeremy in the neck, just grazing him.  Blood sprays out, and Jeremy falls to his knees, one hand keeping pressure on his neck as the other reaches out to catch him from falling fully on the concrete.

 

“Ah, shit.”  Geoff mutters and tears a strip of fabric from the bottom of his dress shirt.  He tears another bundle from Jeremy’s orange jeans, and ties the bundle to Jeremy’s wound with the strip from his shirt.  “It’s not too bad, it won’t kill you or anything. You okay?”

 

“Yeah, just a little dizzy.”  Geoff tosses Jeremy’s arm from the side that wasn’t shot over his shoulder and hauls both of them to their feet.

 

“Let’s get you to the car.  Matt will patch you up when we get home.”

 

“Say that again.”  Jeremy asks suddenly and Geoff doesn’t stop moving, but he does shoot Jeremy a confused look.

 

“What, when we get home?”

 

“Yeah.”  Jeremy laughs wetly, and Geoff pretends not to notice when the younger man scrubs tears off of his cheeks.

 

-

 

Vagabond, Michael, and Gavin are all fighting a squad of cops.  Gavin’s mouth is running absent-mindedly, meant to steady his hands as he fires shot after unerring shot.  Michael responds to select comments of Gavin’s, and occasionally, Vagabond does as well.

 

“Okay, a million dollars-”  He’s interrupted by Michael muttering, “Not this fucking shit again,” under his breath, but Gavin continues talking regardless.  “A million dollars but you have to eat a whole plate of spiders.”

 

“Are the spiders poisonous?”  Ryan asks and Gavin pauses to think.  “And how big are they? Because the bigger they are, the less you have to eat.”

 

“True, but with the small ones, you can just swallow them.  With the big ones, you have to chew.”

 

“I hate everything.”  Michael mutters and yells out a curse about one of the cops’ mothers as he puts a bullet neatly between their eyes.

 

“I think I’d rather get it over with faster.  I’d go with the big ones.”

 

“No, but-”  Vagabond wraps his hand into the collar of Gavin’s shirt suddenly and pushes him down to the pavement just as one of the cops fires his gun.  Instead of hitting Gavin in the back of the neck, it buries itself in the Vagabond’s sternum. He crumples against the car before collapsing fully onto the ground.

 

“Fuck!”  Michael shrieks and shoots the guilty cop in almost the exact same place.  “Dammit, we gotta get him outta here.”

 

“Take care of the buggers, I’ve got Vagabond.”  Gavin crouches next to Vagabond and opens his jacket.  He pulls a pocket knife out and slices Vagabond’s shirt neatly down the middle to get at the bullet wound.  He presses Vagabond’s torn shirt to the wound and slows the flow of blood. “It didn’t hit anything major. I think it’s embedded itself in the bone.”

 

“Good or bad?”  Michael asks and Gavin sighs as he moves a hand to check the Vagabond’s pulse.

 

“Good.  It shouldn’t kill him since it hasn’t struck anything major.  The impact to the sternum may have jarred his ribs, but it shouldn’t have broken them.  I just need to make sure he’s breathing.”

 

“Well, hurry up and do it.”  Gavin flips Michael off behind his back and rips the Vagabond’s mask off.  He checks Vagabond’s breahing, and it’s not until he’s satisfied with that does he notice one major detail.  “Oh my bloody god.”

 

“What?  Is he fucking dead?”  Michael asks and Gavin shakes his head before he realizes Michael can’t see him.

 

“No, it’s Ryan.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?”  Gavin tugs viciously at Michael’s jeans and the other man turns around.  Bleeding on the concrete between them, unconscious and face clecnched in pain, is one of the missing members of their crew, one Ryan Haywood.

 

“Well shit.”  Michael mutters and turns around to continue fending off the cops.  “Now we really have to get him out of here.”

 

“Then let’s do it.”  Gavin adds and stands, pulling his own gun out.


	4. Epilogue

Ryan jolts awake, and tries to sit up on instinct. He’s stopped by something tugging at his arm, and he tilts his head to the side. An IV is taped to his wrist, and almost immediately, he has flashbacks to receiving the same treatment at the hands of the Agency. 

He starts thrashing, trying to pull the IV out of his arm, but his other hand is in a cast and his fingers can’t grip the tubes. Something above his head starts blaring and he hears footsteps running down the hallway and stopping at his door. He closes his eyes and turns his head away from the door so he doesn’t have to see the dead-eyed doctor who’s come to silence him and sink him back into the slimy prison of his own, drug-laced mind. 

“Jesus, calm down!” Someone’s gripping Ryan’s shoulders, pressing him back into the bed, and he blinks his eyes open. Matt, the Crew’s chief medic, has Ryan pinned against the bed, even though Ryan has several pounds on him in muscle alone. “Ryan, you’re safe! You’re not in the Agency anymore!”

Ryan quits thrashing and draws in wheezing lungfuls of air as he struggles to make his body calm down.

“S-sorry.” He chokes out and Matt laughs, brushing his long hair, fallen from the ponytail he’d had it pulled up in, back out of his face. 

“You have jackshit to apologize for, man. You wanna sit up? How you feeling?”

“Hurts…” Ryan mutters, even as he maneuvers into a sitting position with Matt’s help. His mouth stings and he winces.

Matt notices and whips a penlight from the pocket of his jacket, clicking it on and nudging Ryan’s mouth open, sweeping the small beam around the inside. He sighs and clicks the light off. 

“You bit your tongue while you were thrashing. You’re bleeding, just a little bit, but I’m going to get you a drink of water, and you’re gonna clear the blood out of your mouth. Then we’re going to talk through your injuries and whether or not you want visitors.”

“I-”

“Hup bup bup!” Matt shushes Ryan and glares, though there’s no real heat behind it. “Let’s take care of that blood first.”

Ryan remains quiet and compliant while Matt fetches a Styrofoam cup from the water cooler in the hallway. He thinks he hears Matt talking to someone quietly, in a low rumble that makes understanding what he’s actually saying impossible, but Matt returns soon enough. He hands the cup to Ryan and Ryan drains it, swishing the water in his mouth before spitting it back into the cup. 

“I wanna see Jeremy.” Ryan tells Matt as soon as Matt tosses the cup out, and Matt nods.

“Yep, I knew this was coming. Alright, if you can stand, you can see him.” Ryan struggles to his feet, leaning slightly on the IV pole, and Matt watches him as he takes a couple small, cautious step. 

“Please?” Ryan asks, and Matt nods. He loops an arm around Ryan’s waist and supports most of his weight. 

“C’mon, he’s still asleep.”

-

The two shuffle down the hallway of the FAHC Hospital arm in arm. Masked nurses and doctors nod at them as they go, but Ryan mostly ignores them, trying to move as fast as possible without hurting himself.

“You’re gonna exhaust yourself.” Matt mutters under his breath and Ryan smirks at him.

“Or maybe it’s just you who’s going to be exhausted.” Matt raises his eyebrows and fights down a grin.

“Man, I oughta drop you on your ass. Forgot just how sarcastic you were.”

“To be honest, so did I.” There’s a moment of awkward silence as the two keep shuffling. Then Matt veers left suddenly and they’re standing in another hospital room. 

Matt releases Ryan and the older man sags into an uncomfortable plastic seat sat at the bedside. He leans his head against his IV pole and Matt joins him in one of the other, just as uncomfortable, seats. 

In the bed in front of them, Jeremy is asleep. He has an IV like Ryan’s in his arms, and a mask pumping gases that keep him asleep.

“I wasn’t wearing one of those.” Ryan tells Matt, and the medic nods in agreement.

“We had you tubed. You both got shot, but yours was worse than his. When it got close to time for you to wake up, I took out the tube.”

“I’m… Glad I didn’t wake up with a tube down my throat.”

“You’re welcome.” Matt laughs quietly and knocks their shoulders together. They lapse back into silence and Ryan descends deeper into his own thoughts.

“How long have we been gone?” Matt winces and scratches at his beard.

“Almost a year. We never stopped looking, but Johnson kept you two hidden really well.”

“It’s not your fault.” Ryan tells him and Matt arches an eyebrow.

“Dude, I know that. I’m just a medic. It’s not like I was out running heists with the rest of your dumb asses.” He pauses and thinks, before wrinkling his face and sighing. “I think that that’s something you’ll probably have to tell the main crew, though.”

“What?” Ryan asks, but before Matt can say anything else, the monitor over Jeremy’s head spikes in speed of beeps and Jeremy twitches in his drug-induced slumber.

“I might need you to help me hold him down when he fully wakes up.” Matt tells Ryan as he stands and gently pries the mask off of Jeremy’s face, turning off the switch that connected it to the gas. Ryan also stands and unhooks himself from his IV pole so he has full use of his arms. “Here we go.” Matt mutters as Jeremy’s eyes crack open and suddenly blow wide with fear. 

He lashes out and Matt easily snags his fist, leaning his full weight down to pin it to the bed. Ryan pre-emptively grabs Jeremy’s other wrist. 

“Talk to him.” Matt grunts at Ryan, struggling to keep the thrashing Jeremy from breaking loose and injuring himself or one of them.

“Jeremy.” Ryan says and Jeremy’s eyes snap to him. “Jeremy, it’s okay. We’re fine, we’re home. Jeremy, we’re free.” Slowly, Jeremy’s struggles stop and he sags visibly.

“You promise?” He asks quietly and Ryan nods.

“Would I lie to you?”

“No.” Jeremy shakes his head and Ryan settles back into the chair by his bedside. Matt stays quiet as he checks Jeremy’s vitals.

-

Jack stares blankly at the can of Diet Coke sitting on the table in front of her. She’s been like this for an hour, and Geoff isn’t much better off.

“We never even suspected…” Jack whispers into the still air of the penthouse kitchen finally, and Geoff shakes his head. “Two mercenaries? No real names, never showed their faces, and we never even considered the possibility it was them, Geoff!”

“Don’t raise your voice.” Geoff sighs. “Everyone else is still asleep.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Matt’s going to drop them off in the morning. We should get some sleep.” Geoff stands and grabs Jack’s unopened can, putting it back in the fridge. Then he comes back to Jack and rests a hand on her shoulder, the other going to the small of her back. She melts into the touch slightly and lets Geoff pull her to her feet. 

The two of them shuffle into her bedroom, and Geoff drops her unceremoniously onto the comforter, turning to leave. Jack lifts her head and reaches her hand out, snagging it in the hem of Geoff’s shirt. He turns back around and raises a questioning eyebrow at her.

“Will you stay?” She asks quietly and Geoff nods, nudging at her until Jack shuffles far enough for him to curl up next to her on the bed. 

“Good night.” He whispers and she hums in reply before sleep claims them both.

-

In the morning, Gavin bounces on his heels anxiously, hovering over Michael’s shoulder as the auburn man makes eggs and toast.

“Gavin, I swear to God, sit the fuck down.”

“But Micool!” Gavin protests even as he settles himself onto a barstool, and Michael plates the two men’s breakfast before sitting on the barstool next to Gavin.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Michael tells Gavin as he slathers butter on his toast. “Just don’t overdo it or you’ll be napping on the couch when they actually get here.”

“Okay, Michael.” Gavin grins at his friend and pours ketchup on his eggs. Michael looks on silently before sighing.

“Well, it might not matter. I’m going to have to kill you just for that.”

“Please don’t.” Gavin hurriedly shovels his eggs into his mouth like he might have to book it at any given second. 

“Hey, they’re alive!” Michael calls as Jack and Geoff come into the kitchen, both still looking tired. Geoff yawns and blindly pours himself a cup of coffee. He drains it in a few seconds, and then pours himself another one, still looking just as tired. “Your food’s in the microwave.”

“You’re a saint.” 

“I’m really not.” Michael drawls, one eyebrow raised sarcastically.

The four of them spend a couple of hours lounging around the apartment in their own ways. Michael cleans and ropes Gavin into helping him. Jack bakes several trays of cookies before Geoff grabs her and pushes her onto the couch, lacing their hands together as he turns on some shitty daytime TV. 

When there’s a knock at the front door, however, all of them scramble to their feet and Geoff gets pushed forward towards the door to answer it. He does so and Matt stands there in front of him, Ryan and Jeremy standing just behind him. For a long moment, they all just stand there, staring at each other. Then Matt yawns so widely his jaw cracks repeatedly and he scratches at his beard.

“So can we come in or not?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Geoff stumbles to the side and Matt walks in. He looks around before turning back to Ryan and Jeremy. 

“I’m leaving. You two have a check-up in two weeks to make sure you’re healing fine, be there or I’ll rain down Hell.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Ryan drawls sarcastically, still looking a little tense and nervous. Matt pats him on the shoulder and leaves through the still-open door, closing it with a loud ‘bang’ behind him.

Then it’s just the six of them, all staring at each other in silence.

Jack is the first to break it, and she walks forward to pull both men into a bone-crushing hug, hiding her face in Ryan’s shoulder.

“Welcome home.” She says quietly, and that’s when the floodgates open. Gavin throws himself at Jeremy and clambers onto his back, overjoyed to have one of his best friends back. Geoff pats Ryan on the shoulders and silently endures it when Ryan teasingly ruffles his hair. Once they’ve all calmed down, they stand in a huddle, just existing in the same space together once again.

“Good to be back.” Jeremy says and grins.


End file.
